


Drabbles

by orphan_account



Category: Cookie Run (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Fluff without Plot, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-09-15 03:24:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16925574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A collection of small ficlets exploring my favorite Cookie Run ships.





	1. Cute (Herb/Hero)

It was Sunday morning. He didn’t have work, but Hero still took it upon himself to do something. He was sprawled out on the living room floor next to Herb, re-organizing a pile of records from a dusty crate.

“Ah, Johnny Cash … That’s a good one.” He mumbled as he picked up a vinyl, the other hand searching for its matching cover. Herb slid it into his outstretched fingers. 

He looked up. “Thanks.” Herb hummed in acknowledgement, returning to wiping down the crate. 

Hero paused to watch him work in silence. His hair was still dripping from the shower. The green strands reached in every direction, half wet pieces sticking to the sides of his face and leaving wet patches on the shoulders of his grey t-shirt. Herb chewed on the side of his cheek as he worked, scrubbing every angle of the crate with a wet washcloth, nose crinkling in the cutest way as he concentrated. 

He suddenly sat up, noticing Hero hadn’t said anything for a few seconds and was staring at him dreamily. A faint blush crept up his cheeks. “ ... What?” He asked finally, letting the crate plop down into his lap. Hero leaned in and planted a kiss on the tip of the other man's nose. Herb pouted in a way that said ‘You didn’t answer my question’. 

“You are cute. That’s it.” Hero turned back to the stack of records, a small smile coming to his face as Herb swatted his arm with the washcloth, huffing in annoyance.


	2. Late (Herb/Hero)

Hero knew he was up way past his alarm before he even opened his eyes. The sunlight was shining right through the blinds into his room, illuminating the exact section where he laid in bed. “Fuck.” He mumbled, sitting up with a yawn. Dreading it, he turned to look at the bedside table. The alarm clock read 11:37 am. 

“Fuck!” Hero repeated, louder. He sprang out of bed, looking around wildly for his glasses as he rushed to the bathroom. He almost slammed right into Herb, who was carrying a silver tray. It was loaded with breakfast. Plates sat upon it, with piles of buttery pancakes covered in syrup, bacon that was still sizzling, and hash browns with melted cheese and pepper, just how Hero liked them. A pitcher of orange juice and two cups dangerously swayed along with the rest of the food as Herb stopped moving.

They both stared at each other; Hero in boxers and a Metallica shirt, Herb still with bedhead. 

“My alarm didn’t go off?” Hero asked finally.

Herb nodded. 

“And you decided not to wake me up because I looked tired?”

Herb nodded again. 

“And you want me to move because that tray is heavy?” 

Herb elbowed him in the chest, side stepping into the room. Hero paused for a moment, but returned back to the bed. Both of them lowered the tray into their laps, eating in hungry silence. 

“You didn’t have to do this, y’know.” Hero didn’t even flinch when Herb poked him in the arm with his fork. He glanced at him as Herb started to speak.

“You always make breakfast for me. Let me do something for you.” He huffed, not even waiting for Hero to respond before leaning over and planting a syrupy kiss onto his cheek. Hero sighed in defeat, scooting over to lean onto him as they ate. 

“Can I at least call in sick to work?” Hero mumbled, getting poked again.


	3. Cuddle (Hero/Rockstar)

Morning. 

Hero didn’t even look at his alarm, assured it went off at 6:30 like every morning. He would have to shuffle into the kitchen, turn on the coffee maker, and then get ready as usual. Routine, of course.

He reached, blindly, to turn it off, but paused, feeling something - rather, someone - tug onto his shirt sleeve.

“Hon.” Hero sighed, looking down at Rockstar, who looked back up at him with the perfect pair of puppy eyes. They were wrapped together, one of Rocky’s arms still draped around his waist. “You know I have to get ready, I don’t have time to cuddle…” Something in his voice said he truly wanted to, but like every day, he had to go to work.

“Yes you do! I set your alarm 15 minutes early.” Rockstar said with a triumphant smirk. Hero glanced at the clock. Sure enough, it was 6:15. 

He tugged on Hero’s arm again. “Come here, its cold.” 

“Damnit, Rocky,” Hero mumbled, “I could have slept more.” His smile betrayed everything, though, and he scooted back under the covers happily, letting Rockstar pepper his face with kisses.


End file.
